


The Sparas Conspiracy

by Harley_Quinn13



Series: The Modern Knights and the Detective [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Kingsman (Movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Arguing, Bars and Pubs, Bombs, British, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Elton John is a god, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Hotels, I mean TRULY dead, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kingsman Spoilers, Memory Loss, Narcissism, Nobody is Dead, Rough Sex, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Some angst, Spies & Secret Agents, Vaginal Sex, Violence, british misa, bullets to the face, fuck you poppy, lucas baker-like character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-01-30 22:28:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harley_Quinn13/pseuds/Harley_Quinn13
Summary: A man returns from a long fall;  and with him being the only lead to  a threatening underground organization, Agent Galahad and Agent Erec must go undercover to unlock the secrets behind Sparas. But with Agent Erec having a direct tie to the dead man walking, will her identity comprimise their mission, or will they succeed in the long run?





	1. A Ghost

  A pair of dangerous eyes had made their way to a familiar face across the dimly lit pub. Or, at least, she had seemed familiar. She looked as dangerous as his gaze was. After a while, he realized who she was. Another lover, a notch on his belt as others would say. 0088. Of course it was her, of course she was here at the same moment he was there. Out of all the people in the mildly crowded pub, he noticed her. Not the woman beside him, or the man sitting in the booth on the left side of the room. She sat at the black counter, the golden trimming shining like her eyes were as she looked down at her drink, swirling her finger around the rim of the glass. Her head was resting on the back of her palm, and she was looking more feminine than he had ever remembered. Not only that, but she was smiling! He couldn’t believe it! The last time he saw her smile was quite some time ago, but he had never seen her smile like the way she was now.

   He wondered what she was doing now, seeing as he had pushed for her line of work to be eliminated. She looked wonderful, and he could clearly see that she was doing much better without him.

  The sleek, black dress she wore clung to every curve, highlighting almost all of her womanly features, making him crave her once more. Her blonde hair was shorter, but not too short, and it was pinned back in a style that reminded him of the various women in movies from the 40’s. He was beginning to wonder why she was so dressed up in a place like this. Her lips were as red as the blood she spilled not too long ago. If that wasn’t a reason why he should have stopped those people, then he didn’t know what was. There were a few differences, such as the thick-rimmed glasses on her face, but as far as he could see, that was the only different thing. She didn’t have a ring on her finger. If she wasn’t taken, maybe he could take her back to his place for a bit. Make her miss him, even. After all, it had only been a year since they parted.

  He had stopped staring as soon as a gentleman in a suit came from the door behind her took the seat next to her, with his back turned to him, so he was facing her. He was an older man, but he knew that wouldn’t stop the girl. Even when they were together he had a good eight years on her. And the boy before him had three years on her. The man’s hair was swept away from his face neatly, and he wore the same glasses as she did. _‘The old man probably can’t see without them.’_ He thought bitterly. He wasn’t jealous, not at all. She had turned to smile at the man, it was the same smile she had once gave to him, but somehow, it was sweeter. _‘They’re fucking.’_ He thought once more before ultimately turning away and chugging down the rest of his drink.

  Jamie couldn’t help but giggle at Harry’s sarcasm. In all honesty, when she met him she couldn’t have expected anything funny to come from him. After a while though, she realized that it was quite the opposite. She knew that taking this mission was the right thing to do. Even though she had been out of work for a few months, she knew that this agency was right for her. It had to be. An old ex of hers had found it for her, and she took the opportunity, completing the rigorous training without breaking a sweat (as a metaphor, of course).

  Her giggling stopped immediately when she saw the target. And boy, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

  “Harry.” She muttered as she watched Max get up. Harry glanced over his shoulder, noticing the man with dark hair get up and pay. He wasn’t quite as tall as Harry might have imagined, but that didn’t matter. He watched the man in the navy blue suit exit the bar, seemingly in a rush. It was all quite suspicious, he had gotten up after Harry had returned, leaving him to wonder what their target was planning.

  “That’s him.” Harry told her. She shook her head solemnly.

  “I thought you were joking, or at least I had hoped you were. Or maybe it was a different guy using his name. I saw his body, I mourned over him. And here he is…” She trailed off. Harry took her hand, for once it felt cold in his palm. She looked as if she had seen a ghost, and maybe that was what it was to her. A ghost.

  Their mission was to find Max Denbigh, someone who had ties to an organization that they’ve been trying to hunt down. When Jamie had heard that her mission would be to hunt down Max Denbigh, she almost burst out laughing. But that was only to disguise the hurt she felt within. He had died, he was dead as far as Jamie knew. He was an absolute ass to her, but she loved him.  But there he was, walking out of the bar.

  Max was alive and Jamie couldn’t believe it. The whole ordeal was quite jarring for her. Her attitude on most of the mission was laid back and almost too joking for her partner, but as soon as she realized that their target was real… she snapped out of it. Harry had noticed this immediately. Her entire demeanor had gone from happy and almost flirtatious before changing to grim and silent in a matter of seconds. She watched their target walk out, before turning her attention back to Harry.

  “No one ever stays dead in this line of work; you should know this already.” He told her.

  In her head, a million thoughts were racing and flashing before her inner eye. She couldn’t believe it. Max Denbigh was alive, even after the fall, after being confirmed dead. She hadn’t talked to anyone after he died, although she couldn’t understand why she cared that much after everything he had done.

  Harry placed some money on the counter and stood, holding his hand out for Jamie, helping her off of the bar stool. She felt sick and dizzy and weak. Harry, somehow, was able to sense this and helped her out of the pub.

  Their target stood nearby, looking stressed and aggravated. This wasn’t a new feeling for Max, however, he wanted to avoid any possible enemies. Jamie was definitely one of them. He could tell that she hated him before his untimely death, before the fall. They often argued and never resolved said arguments. He would understand why she hated him. Little did he know: his death had the most impact on her than anyone else.

  As Harry approached Max, he made sure to remind Jamie to calm down. She tried to, but she had a feeling that no matter what mask she wore, Max would know that deep down inside she was terrified by the living dead man in front of her.

  “Mind if we join you?” Harry inquired innocently enough. Max looked over at the duo, immediately recognizing the both of them. He shook his head, all while eyeing Jamie. He had dark eyes, ones to match his equally dark hair. A light coat of stubble covered his chin and cheeks, also known as a five o’clock shadow.

  “Not at all mister…” Max trailed off. Harry held his hand out.

  “I’m James Quinn and this” Harry stopped to introduce Jamie.

  “Is Jill Morrison.” Max took Harry’s hand, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her, she was smiling at him, but he knew there was something off about it. She looked incredibly uneasy underneath all of the sparkle and shine of her smile. He knew that wasn’t her real name, but he refused to say anything. There was something off about this man as well, lying about Jamie’s name and thinking he’d believe that her name was Jill.

  “You’re a lucky man.” He told Harry. They were both taken aback by his comment, and while Harry remained quiet, Jamie began to stumble over words to explain herself.

  “Oh. We’re not. I wouldn’t.” She stopped to look up at Harry. Her eyes were incredibly wide and a bright pink blush dusted across her pale cheeks out of embarrassment. She begged him to help her through only her eyes and Harry understood.

  “We aren’t together. Not like that.” He finished for her. She felt a large wave of relief wash over her. Max smirked and nodded. In his head, he was laughing. Another lie, Max was sure of that. ‘ _Unless, maybe she’s helplessly in love with him.’_ Max thought to himself, almost chuckling out loud. She was the one to speak out first, and even when she did she stuttered and stumbled over her words like a child stumbling over their own feet when they begin to walk.

  “Ah. I see.” He said simply before returning his hands to his pockets. It was a beautiful and chilly October night in Mullingar, the sky above them was pitch black, only a few grey clouds drifted along. The streetlights illuminated their path, making both the wet roads and sidewalks look shiny. While it was a bit rainy that night, it was not warm. With every breath they took, a small cloud emitted from their nose and lips. They all sat in silence for a few moments, the only sounds in those moments were passing cars. It was relatively peaceful, and while Jamie knew not to get used to it, she couldn’t help but enjoy the sense of normality she got from this mission. Other than the dead ex-boyfriend who was suddenly alive again.

   A cold gust of wind blew past, rustling the trees surrounding them and causing a chill to run up Jamie’s spine. She had visibly shuddered and out of instinct she crossed her arms. Both men looked at her.

  “Sorry. I forgot my coat.” She stated awkwardly. Harry closed his eyes for a moment before taking off his coat and holding it out for her.

  “You don’t have to, I’ll be fine.” She insisted, but he didn’t listen. Instead, he draped his coat around her shoulders. She grabbed ahold of it and slid it off.

  “I don’t need it.” She swore, but Harry went on to tell her that it was the right thing to do. Of course, Jamie wouldn’t take that as an answer and still fought over the simple and kind gesture. Max watched the scene before him unfold, taking in how he was treating her. There was only one other person that Max had met personally who had been like that, but she broke it off with the poor boy after only a year. After Harry and Jamie were done arguing, Harry had turned his attention to Max once more.

  “Westwood?” He questioned as he stared at Max’s suit. Max smiled and nodded.

  “Of course.” Max answered proudly. Jamie had seen the dark blue suit on him only once before. It was on their first and last fancy date. All three of them had begun to walk down the street, Harry’s hand placed on Max’s back and Jamie trailing behind the two.

  “I could recommend a few shops for you, if you’re interested.” Harry offered. It was all just something to distract the target though, that much Jamie knew. They approached a silver Aston Martin car. Max dug into his pocket before withdrawing his keys, opened the car door, and while still smiling in a friendly manner, replied to Harry.

  “Maybe you could tell me tomorrow. All three of us could go out for a bit.” He proposed. Harry thought about it for a split second, quickly coming up with an excuse.

  “I’m afraid we won’t be able to make it. This is our last day in town.” He explained while placing a hand on Jamie’s hip, bringing her closer to him. Max sighed before returning his cold gaze back to Jamie.

  “That’s a real shame.” Max said with a glare. He then got into his car and started it up. But just before he took off, he lowered the tinted window.

  “By the way, you two aren’t fooling anyone with the ‘we aren’t together’ act.” He said before leaving. The car roared as it took off into the night, leaving the two behind to watch it disappear. Jamie quickly brushed Harry’s hand off of her hip and pulled herself away from him, a light pink dusted across her cheeks out of embarrassment. Once his car was out of sight, she turned to Harry.

  “You planted the bug on him, right?” She asked nervously. Harry found himself chuckling at this.

  “Of course.” He reassured her.

                                                                                                                            2

  They returned back to their hotel in no time. Jamie felt rushed to get to their room, all she wanted to do was forget that all of this happened. She wished that she could just drop it and never touch it again, not even with a five hundred-foot pole.

  When they had finally reached the dark wooden door to the room 308, she had practically fallen in after the room was unlocked. The first thing she did was take off her heels, her feet immediately coming into contact with the somewhat relieving soft carpet. Then she threw off Harry’s coat, which landed on the edge of the bed. The room was a comfortable size for two people, with a desk by the window with a rolling chair. The drapes were a green color with a brown stripe on the bottom. Just beside the desk in the corner of the room was a neutral green colored chair, its’ surface was velvet and soft to the touch. The blankets and pillows on the bed were white along with the sheets below it. Although, the only problem with the room was that there was only a single, queen-sized bed, meaning that they would have to sleep in the same bed.

  There was a bathroom on the right side of the room, only a few feet from the nightstand. The bathroom was quite nice as well, with more of a blue and white color scheme. The tile on the floor was a checkered pattern with white and navy blue, the towels had the same coloring except they were all white with a navy blue horizontal stripe at the bottom.

  The closet was next to the door and was filled to the brim with both Harry and Jamie’s luggage. Not only had they both been in Ireland for a week now, but the closet had to conceal some of their well disguised weapons. Other weapons were hidden in… other places.

  Jamie flopped onto their bed, tired, both emotionally and physically. _How?_ That was the only word that surfaced in her head. After all this time, and she just now found out he was alive. Why wouldn’t he tell her he was alive?

  She remembered everything so vividly. The way she rushed up the stairs to get to him, leaving Q behind. How he was struggling with M, how close they were to the window. They ended up shooting it, causing the glass to shatter. She saw the look of determination in his eyes, how they blazed with anger and the realization that he wouldn’t win. He pulled the trigger to the gun in their hands, hitting glass above the two, glass rained down on M forcing him to move away from Max, pushing him a little in the process. He ended up on the edge and struggled to regain his balance, he waved his arms to try to balance himself again, but it didn’t work. He fell. He fell to his death.

  She stopped for a moment before she broke down into tears, collapsing onto her knees at the edge of the building, looking down at his limp body, blood slowly leaking out from behind his head. She watched as a man walked toward him. Of course, at the time she didn’t think much of it. Now, she suspected that they were the one who brought him back. Q had pulled her away from the edge, getting her to snap out of it. He still cared about her, but she didn’t know about that.

  She was so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized that she started crying. Harry had gone into the bathroom to change, and when he got out he saw her, laying on the bed with silent tears streaming down her temples and into her golden locks. He sighed, understanding how hard this must have been for her. He sat down on his side of the bed, the lowering of the right side of the bed helped her realize that he was there. She sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. Following that, she had stood with his coat in her hands and placed it on the back of the green chair in the corner of the room before digging her pajamas out of the drawers and heading into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it with and audible _click_.

  Harry was left alone in the room to stare at the bathroom door. He wished he could figure her out, only so he could help and try to prevent her from screwing up this mission. He found himself tempted to contact Merlin and tell him that he was sending Jamie home. She wasn’t emotionally ready for this mission and he should have realized it from the start. He didn’t want her to end up like Lee.

   The bathroom door opened again and Harry watched her cross the room in silence. She crawled onto her side of the bed and slid her legs under the covers. The last thing she did before speaking was look at him. His hair wasn’t quite as neat as it had been before, not to mention the fact that even he looked tired behind those thick-rimmed glasses.

  “Are you just going to keep staring at me like that?” She inquired in a voice no louder than a whisper. He furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of what she meant.

  “What?”

  “Are you just going to keep staring at me?” She repeated. He looked away for a moment before looking at her once more.

  “What else am I supposed to do when you don’t look like you want to talk?” He asked. She stopped for a moment to think. What did she want him to do? She knew, but the question was whether or not she should say it. In her state of mind, tired, and lonely, craving some form of support and love from someone, from another person. To her, the answer was obvious.

  “Just hold me.” She begged.

  Her answer caused another silence to overcome the room. Harry wasn’t sure if he should or not, of course she was only asking for him to embrace her, how bad could it be? Jamie was equally scared. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

  With a sigh, Harry held out his arms. She practically threw herself into his arms. Soft and muffled sniffles told him that she was still crying. _‘A ghost.’_ He reminded himself as he ran his fingers through her soft ringlets. She leaned into him, curling into his side as he leaned back gently, allowing them both to lay down. Her head rested on his chest, the sounds of his drumming heartbeat and the steady intake and release of air had begun to lull her to sleep.

  A soft beeping noise echoed near Harry’s ear, and before he could do anything a green box appeared on the right lens of his glasses. Merlin had come into view. As usual, he was seated in front of several computers in a grey room with a small microphone rooted in the counter pointing toward him so agents could hear him speak.

  Merlin was normally the tech expert for their agency, an important piece for every mission. He wasn’t necessarily an older man, but he wasn’t much younger than Harry, with Merlin nearing the end of his mid-forties. Although, he was bald, a complete contrast between him and Harry, who was still sporting a full head of hair with only a few greys streaking throughout the otherwise flawless brown color. Merlin always had a stern look of concentration on his face, often giving him an intimidating look.

  “We’ve got a lead on Sparas. Meet up with Max tomorrow, there’s a tracker in the bug you planted earlier.” Merlin’s thick Scottish accent transmitted through the earpiece as he explained what was going on.

  “Max just got off of the phone with Sparas. Apparently he’s meeting an agent tomorrow for new directions.” He continued. Harry gently began to push himself up, and in the process, he brought Jamie back to her senses.

  “Okay. Where are we going?” He asked. Merlin began to type on the keyboard in front of him before squinting his eyes to read what he had found.

  “It’s a pub and restaurant called Druids Chair. They’ll be able to blend in easily, but so will you. I’ve called ahead, don’t worry. Just be there by one.” He instructed. Harry said a quick _‘okay’_ before Merlin hung up. He let out a sigh as he took off his glasses for the night.

   “What was that?” Jamie asked. Harry shook his head.

  “Go to sleep, I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He told her as he turned over, getting the lamp on his nightstand in the process. Jamie muttered a small ‘okay’ before laying back down, curling up at his side, and falling asleep in a matter of minutes.


	2. The Meeting

  Harry had woken up to a dark and quiet room, hours before Jamie had woken up. His still-sleepy eyes were focused on the window as he zoned out. That night they had found Max, causing Jamie to have somewhat of a mental breakdown and he had fallen asleep with her in his arms, he recalled, and for some strange reason they had stayed that way. He looked down at her peaceful, sleeping face. Her chest rose and fell in a pattern as she took relaxed breaths, and something bubbled up within him. Of course, he ignored this and attempted to sit up. And as he moved, she took a deep breath and shifted, allowing Harry to sit on the edge of the bed.

  Darkness enveloped the room, and the only light came from the clock on the nightstand on Jamie’s side of the bed. It stared at him, even from that distance its’ gaze was intense. Its’ red eyes read as six o’clock. All he could do was sigh, knowing that there was no way he would get back to sleep now. He knew for a fact that Jamie would sleep for who-knows-how-long, so he was basically alone. Jamie shifted once more, this time she was facing the window, which was covered by the drapes at the time.

  The room was eerily quiet. Only the sound of the air conditioning could be heard as it roared, blowing the cool air out from its vents and into the air. Harry noticed how cold the room truly was after a few moments of sitting in silence.

2

  Jamie’s eyes opened slowly, fluttering as they got used to the influx of light from the window. She stretched by spreading out on the bed before turning her head to look at the clock. It was almost twelve-thirty. She had overslept. Grasping at the side next to her, she realized that Harry wasn’t there. She sat up, sighing, wondering where he could be. She wondered for a brief moment if she had overstepped a boundary the night before, but she quickly dismissed the thought and instead chose to believe that he was busy doing… something. She wasn’t quite sure what he would be doing at this time, hell, she wasn’t quite sure what he did other than work. Unless this **was** work related.

  A buzzing sound brought her out of her thoughts. She turned her gaze to her cell phone on her nightstand. In a quick manner, she picked it up and answered.

  “Ms. Irons? I’m so sorry to bother you, I know you’re probably in a meeting or something for… whatever it is you do, but it’s an emergency, and like you said I should only call you if it’s an emergency. Which it is.” Jamie began to tune out the rambling girl on the other end of the phone.

  “Beverly, you’re doing that thing again, dear. Just tell me what happened.” She told the girl. Beverly was Jamie’s neighbor. She was a tall girl who had just finished school and moved in next to Beverly. She has blonde hair that she usually wore in braids. Her skin was pale and often held a light blush on her cheeks along with freckles. Her nose was often a little red on the tip as well. There was only one problem that the girl had, though. She had problems staying quiet. She truly was a sweet girl, but she tended to ramble on. Beverly looked up to Jamie and often treated her with great respect. She had agreed to watch Jamie’s Scottish Terrier, Sasha, her dog from her trials before joining Kingsman.

  Beverly sighed as she looked at the small, black dog laying on the carpet.

  “You weren’t renting this place, were you?” Beverly asked. Numbness overcame Jamie in waves. So many things could have gone wrong and her mind raced as it thought of all the awful things that could have happened.

  “I… I am. Why?”

  “Your dog”

  “What did Sasha do? Beverly, please tell me, just spit it out.” Jamie pleaded, feeling stress overcome her. Beverly looked at the giant pile of white nylon string on the floor. Even through the telephone, Jamie could feel the tension and Beverly’s reluctance to tell Jamie what happened. After a long pause, she finally answered.

  “She tore up the carpet.” Jamie dropped her phone right then and there, causing Beverly to wonder what happened. She moved her phone from her face and stared at it before speaking into it again.

  “Hello? Ms. Irons? Are you there?” Jamie sighed as she picked the phone back up and answered Beverly. She knew the carpet would cost a fortune to replace and Sasha would not go unpunished for this. Not only that, but now she knew why her landlord was reluctant to allow dogs in her flat.

  “Yes, Bevvie. I’m here. Just cover it up for now. I’ll fix it when I get back.” She said with a sigh. Beverly furrowed her eyebrows and thought of a way to help.

  “I could get it. Then when you get back you can hire someone to fix it!” Beverly suggested. Jamie could only sigh before telling her that she would figure it out when she got back, and then she hung up.

  That was definitely the last thing Jamie needed, a crisis at home, which was miles away from her current location. As long as Beverly kept an eye on Sasha at all times, then there would be no more problems. Jamie had a feeling that Sasha had done that because she was upset, not to mention the fact that Jamie often brought Sasha everywhere with her; Sasha was her little princess, and as much as it pained her to not bring her little princess, she had to leave her.

3

  Harry entered the room, a small brown bag in his left hand and the key-card in his right. He placed both items on the small, oak table that sat beside the door, facing the closet, before he noticed that Jamie was awake.

  It was almost time to head out, and she still wasn’t ready.

  She sat on the bed, her head in her hands and her phone next to her. She was still in her pajamas, which were a pair of shorts with a tank top. Almost all of her legs were visible while she sat, because her thighs forced the material up her legs. Harry tried not to stare when she was like this.

  Jamie looked up, she didn’t look like she was crying, seeing as when she cried her eyes would become pink and puffy, making her blue-green look more vibrant. Something had happened though, and she seemed more stressed and angry than sad, which was a good thing and a drastic change from the night before.

  “You have about fifteen to twenty minutes to get ready.” He told her. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at him in complete and utter confusion.

  “We’re going out.” He explained. She was sure she had misinterpreted this small little phrase, and something rose from deep within her. She wasn’t sure why she had reacted to his comment this way. With blushing cheeks, she had stared at him.

  “I think I-”

  “Wear something nice, but not too formal.” He instructed before making his way to the green chair in the corner, where his coat still resided from the night before.

  Jamie stopped for a moment, and, faced with absolute confusion, thought about everything he just said. _‘Are we… are we going on a date?’_ She asked herself. She was barely able to think such a thought, let alone ask him if they were.

4

  The silence between the two of them was almost unbearable for Jamie. She was still unsure of what it was that they were doing, but it didn’t take her long to figure it out. The night before, he had taken a call from Merlin, meaning where they were going had something to do with that call. He still hadn’t told her what the call was about, and with the meltdown she had that night, she didn’t really want to know. She already knew it had something to do with Max Denbigh.

  They approached a restaurant called Druid’s Chair. It was a humble little place located next to a small coffee shop. The name of the restaurant was written in golden letters on top of the black outline of the building. Harry held the door open for Jamie, and she was immediately in awe of the place. The exterior did it no justice, the place was cozy-looking and lively at the time they had arrived.

  The bar was visible from the moment they walked in, and while Jamie stood there by Harry, taking in her surroundings, he was eyeing a particular gentleman sitting at the end of the bar. It was Max, of course, but he was alone. And after the hostess had shown them to their table, Harry tried his best to keep Jamie’s attention from Max. She knew better, however, but decided to not pay any attention to it.

  Max waited tensely for the messenger to arrive. Not only was he getting new instructions, but he had to warn them. He had to warn them about the lingering presence of spies. That was the only reason why “Jill Morrison” would be there, right? Unless, perhaps, she had changed her name after the double-0 program was disbanded. Maybe she had actually moved on from that life, gotten a regular job. Maybe she was even lying about the man., maybe they were married. All of these were possibilities, but Max couldn’t see Jamie doing any of that. She was too far gone to leave such a life behind. But that wasn’t important, no, Max knew what was important. He had to get these spies off of his back.

  Harry and Jamie had walked in about ten minutes after max had arrived, and if you thought he didn’t notice them, you’d be dead wrong. He saw “James” watch him from the front, and that’s when Max knew, he knew that they weren’t there for a relaxing afternoon, they were there for him. Jamie wore that damn dress, his favorite one, the red one. She had always looked splendid in red, and he wasn’t surprised that she still fit in it. But he was rather interested in why she chose that dress. Was it because she knew that they were going to be following him? Or was it because she wanted the attention of a certain older man who just so happened to be at her side at all times?

   Max saw it now that they were seated, he could hear her giggle, and through the reflection of the plaque on the wall, he could see the two of them. He could see the way she leaned on the table, he could see the genuine interest in her eyes as “James” explained something. He couldn’t really hear what he was telling her over the low rumble of other people. And after a few moments of him silently watching them, he had decided that it wasn’t important. He had decided that the important thing was to get away from them as soon as he could. So he sat alone, his thoughts and nerves getting the best of him. The only escape from these things was a single text:

  _“When will you be back, Luv?_

_-Jill xoxo”_

  He had answered her in no time, telling her the absolute truth because he knew that she would kill him if he lied.

  _“Truthfully dear, idk.”_

  And as Max locked his phone, a man walked in. He was tall, with blonde hair that was styled to the side, and he wore sunglasses. This wasn’t unusual, however, seeing as the sun was shining bright that day. He wore a beige suit with a red tie, and on the pocket of this suit was a black wing. It was small and not visible or seemingly important to Harry and Jamie, but Max couldn’t mistake that small speck of black. It was the Sparas logo; it was their symbol, their calling card.

  Max made sure that he wasn’t staring for too long and patiently waited for the man to have a seat at the bar. The man sat next to max, took off his sunglasses, and flashed the bartender a friendly smile before ordering a drink. The two men did not look at each other, nor did they speak to each other. Max took a sip of his drink, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man put the sunglasses on his shirt, and in the process, he took a folded up index card out. Swiftly (and most importantly, naturally) he pushed the card toward Max.

  Harry watched the man who had walked in closely, he observed him and took note of every small thing he did. As a matter of fact, he had done that to every person who walked in after they had. However, everyone in the restaurant aside from himself, Jamie, and Max were suspects. They could all be the messenger.

  The card held an address and a date. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less. The messenger watched Max out of the corner of his eye as he drank. Max nodded and took out a pack of gum from his pocket. After taking a piece out with one hand, he made sure to fold up the cared and place it inside the pack of gum, before returning it to his pocket. Max finished his drink, placed a twenty-dollar bill on the bar, and then he finally spoke.

  “There are spies here.” He warned before getting up. Instead of leaving immediately, however, he stopped by the booth where Harry and Jamie were seated. Jamie was in the middle of laughing at whatever Harry had said, but she quieted down as soon as Max reached the table.

  “What are you two doing here? I thought you were leaving today.” Max started in a playful tone. Harry smiled at him.

  “There was a change of plans, I didn’t expect to see you today.” He lied. Jamie sat in silence, watching the two talk, but at the same time she kept a watchful eye on the Sparas messenger. He was leaving, and as he left, he glanced at the three of them, considering Max’s piece of information and then his actions afterwards. Both Jamie and Harry could tell this wasn’t a good thing.

  “Jill and I were going to head out to one of the shopping centers after we finished up here, perhaps you would like to join us?” Harry offered. Jamie had glanced at him before distracting herself with whatever was going on outside.

  “I would love to.” Max stopped as he turned his attention to Jamie.

  “I just wonder… she doesn’t talk to others often, does she?” Max inquired, obviously trying to get a rise out of either one of them. Jamie turned around and stared at Max. She did not glance at him, or merely look at him, she stared at him.

  “You just remind me of a man I used to know. He’s dead, though.” She told him. Her voice did not falter in tone, which was not working in her favor. Max stopped everything for a moment. All the plans and subplots to go with them running through his head had stopped and he focused on her words. She didn’t sound upset when she mentioned his death. She didn’t seem to care, which was mind boggling to him. He thought she still cared and that was why she…

  “Well, I’m afraid I can’t. I have someone waiting for me.” He said in an almost bragging tone. Jamie shifted back towards Harry, giving an awkward and irritated look.

  “I suppose we’ll just leave together again.” Harry suggested. Max nodded in agreement and waited for them to get up. Jamie was beside Harry, and Max was shocked that she wasn’t clinging to him like a teenage girl would do to her date.

  After a brief and unimportant conversation, Max had reached his car. Harry shook his hand and, unknown to Max, reached into his pocket to retrieve the gum packet. Which he had done successfully. Max had left by the time Harry revealed the card to Jamie. The address and date were still visible despite the many folds and bends in the card.

 

_11/02/13_

_Bath, England    998 Alexandra road_

  It was a few weeks away, but now they knew where to go when the time comes. Things were going to happen in the next few weeks, they both knew that. They were ready, and that’s all that mattered.

 Max, on the other hand, had gotten a call from his angel. She was waiting for him, and she was just a few blocks away from the address he had received.


	3. Angel of Death

     With this new information, Jamie and Harry had begun to pack. It was time to go home. There were no more actions for them to take, there was still some research to be done, however, and Merlin was already on it.

  His eyes scanned over the screen as new information popped up. The address was a warehouse, an obvious and cliché hideout for a villain, especially in modern media. But there were reports of a deadly criminal taking up residence in said warehouse. Sadly, these reports turned out to be just rumors in the end, but it was still suspicious. And if this girl was really there, seeing as the reports and rumors started circulating months before Kingsman began investigating Sparas, the place might as well already be someone’s tomb.

  Merlin immediately began researching this woman’s crimes. She was angelic at first glance, but when she revealed her true intentions, she was an angel of death. She was an expert on weapons and often created entire rooms dedicated to the deaths of her foes. Tripwires that set off bombs and blew people to pieces, saws that came out of nowhere when they stepped on a pressure plate. She was absolutely insane, at least, that’s what Merlin had concluded from the audio recordings had had found.

  “Why did you do it?” Asked the unknown officer on the tape.

  “I was bored.” There was no hesitation from her, she immediately told the officer why she had hurt all of those people, why she killed most of them.

  “Is that it? You were just bored?” Another officer inquired, distress laced in his voice. A shrill giggle echoed on the tape.

  “Of course not. People are stupid, maybe I was helping clear the gene pool.” She taunted.

  “You don’t seem like the kind of girl to do that. You mentioned games. Did you think that what you did was a game? You were playing with innocent people’s lives.” The distressed officer spoke again, getting more emotional with every word. She laughed, not giggled, but laughed. It was a loud, chilling laugh that went on for at least half a minute.

  “You thought they were **_innocent_**? You really don’t know anything, do you? A little bird flew down and gave me a folder before it fell from the tree. It was filled to the brim with people who had ties to that bird, I was supposed to get rid of each and every one of them, maybe I’d kill them, maybe I’d just make sure they could never speak again. Remember the jury from his trial, when he ‘stole the crown jewels?’ Every single one of them were in that folder, so it wasn’t just people he did business with. Sadly, I couldn’t finish my work. Mr. Holmes stopped me, and here we are. But at least I had fun doing it, because I knew that things would get quite boring without the king of crime himself around. So yes, this was a game to me. Now it’s just a matter of clearing the board. The game is over! It’s been over! Because the game would not be the same without James-” There was a quick sound of a chair falling before a grunt, and then the audio stopped. The way the woman spoke sent chills down Merlin’s spine, and he feared for everyone’s life. Even those involved with Sparas. Because if they were leading their own people to this woman, they were going to collapse on themselves. And even if they were the enemy, they didn’t deserve to die like that.

  She had mentioned a ‘Mr. Holmes.’ Merlin was rather perplexed by this; she couldn’t have meant Sherlock Holmes. Merlin knew of this great man through “The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson,” but he had not heard of this… this vile act of violence from a rather small and harmless looking woman. Perhaps it was too ghastly for him to talk about. Or maybe, just maybe, Sparas had them cornered _. ‘She has to have some connection to Sparas, how else did she get out of that prison, Sherrinford?’_ He thought to himself.

  Sherrinford is a maximum-security psychiatric prison located in the middle of nowhere, in secure waters and far enough from England and Europe itself. It’s the home for dangerously insane criminals, and that was where she was. It was like the real life ‘Arkham Asylum.’

  Merlin was reminded of the small speech she gave before the tape ended, she spoke in riddles, but he was able to tell what she spoke of. The bird. The bird was James Moriarty. He was arrested and tried for stealing the crown jewels, but never found guilty. And just a couple years ago, he had shot himself in the head and fell from a rooftop. However, there were no signs of this woman working with him, the only tie she has to him would be when she showed up at his trial wearing funeral clothes, another questionable choice that would make others question the state of her mind. When people had asked her about her opinion of Moriarty, she’d tell them that she believed he was innocent.

2

  Max had finally reached Bath after 8 hours of driving. He pulled over and parked in front of a small, two-story building. It was white with dark green shutters and a brown door. The steps leading up to the porch were stone, and there were vines running up the bottom of the building. The porch was stone as well, and two large windows were on either side of the door. These windows had white curtains covering and hiding what was within.

  The curtains covering the right window drew back for a moment, and blue-green eyes peered from behind them, staring at Max as he ascended the steps to the home. As soon as he reached the door, it flung open, seemingly by itself. The same wide and happy eyes that stared at him from behind the curtains were greeting him now. Arms were draped around his shoulders as the woman who answered the door pulled him inside with a hug.

  The inside was rather small as well, with dark wooden floors covered by a faded-red rug running down the hallway which led to the living room. The stairs were located by the front door before the hallway started, and the closet under the stairs was at least halfway down the hallway. The living room was well lit due to the large bay windows and although there was a great level of secrecy that was taken so they weren’t caught, she had left them open because it faced a lake and her backyard, and although the house was small the room did not feel cluttered. There was a coffee table in the middle of the room and a single navy blue loveseat alongside an armchair of the same color. The walls were empty, with only the light grey color that painted them as the only decorations.

  She pulled him by his hands excitedly, leading him into the living room and onto the loveseat. He thought she was absolutely stunning, with her pale skin and short (but not too short) blonde curls, and the lighting helped give her a heavenly glow. _‘Angelic.’_ Max thought to himself as she gently rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand. He had missed her so much, and it felt as if he were meeting her for the first time all over again. He placed a hand on her cheek and leaned in, his lips gently brushing over her soft, pink ones. He stared at her through half-lidded eyes before speaking.

  “I missed you so much.” He told her, causing her to giggle. He finally kissed her. It was a simple, soft kiss, nothing too special for the both of them. She wasn’t used to him being this gentle, quiet, and more importantly, kind to her. Especially since the last time they were together he was a complete ass. She had concluded, however, that he was stressed and that this behavior would pass. She was right.

   She got up and closed the curtain to the bay window behind them before returning to Max’s side, where he planted his lips on hers once more, this time a bit rougher. She groaned and began to lean back, tangling her fingers in his hair. He hovered over her, his body between her legs. Soon they broke off the kiss and her hands made their way to his tie, and his fingers found their way to her back where they began to unbutton her dress.

                                           3

  Jamie had gotten home later than usual that night, she was greeted by the happy chattering from Beverly and her little princess, Sasha, happily jumping up at her.

  “Hi Miss Irons, how was your trip?” Beverly asked before noticing the tired and solemn look on Jamie’s face. She moved out of the way so she could set down her luggage, and with that Jamie plopped down onto the couch.

  “It was… okay, Bevvie. Thanks for watching Sasha for me, again.” Jamie answered to Beverly’s surprise. Then, Jamie’s eyes trailed toward the gaping hole in her rug.

  “I’m really sorry about that Miss Irons, next time I’ll bring the pup home with me instead of leaving her alone like that. It was my fault.” She apologized. Jamie looked at Beverly again, smiling at the girl before speaking.

  “This wasn’t your fault. I’ll have your money tomorrow. And I can afford to replace it, don’t worry.” Beverly smiled and grabbed her bag before waving goodbye and leaving. Then Jamie was left alone in her flat, with Sasha curled up in her lap, already dozing and happy that her owner was home. She ran her hands through her dog’s soft, black fur before trying to move her without disturbing her sleep. Of course, she failed and the dog woke up, but she didn’t whine or anything.

  She walked into her room, Sasha following her, and eventually got changed. These next few weeks were going to be interesting, that was for sure. She wondered what would happen between her and Harry, considering they didn’t say a word to each other on the ride back, and she was afraid that she did push him.

  Sasha ran to her little bed that resided underneath Jamie’s nightstand, and laid down. Her head resting on her paws as she listened to her owner get into bed, which normally meant that it was time for her to go to bed as well. The dog knew this. Jamie laid in bed, watching a random show on a random channel. She didn’t care about what she was watching, all that she cared about was sorting through the mess that was her feelings.

  When she was with Harry, she felt something. That something was often ruined by Max when they went on their missions. But other than that she felt… right when she was with him. It could be argued that she was falling in love with him, and she wouldn’t argue back. But that was only because she didn’t know. Even when she was crying in his arms, she was still upset, but he had comforted her, she felt slightly better in his embrace. And she wouldn’t deny that she felt slightly disappointed the next morning when she realized he wasn’t there next to her.

  With this realization, Jamie had fallen asleep with one thought.

  _‘Oh god. I’ve fallen in love with him.’_

                                                4

  Beverly had gone next door to her own flat, talking to herself along the way and wondering about what it was that Jamie does. She also wondered why such a young woman was alone. Her mother was married at a young age, and she had the same hopes for Beverly. Beverly, however, has already surpassed the age her mother was married at, but it still didn’t crush her mother’s hopes. But Jamie… Beverly wasn’t even sure how old Jamie was, but she seemed to still be young, if not the same age as Beverly then at least a few years older than her. So the concept of Jamie being a young woman who was still single was foreign to her. But she never mentioned this to Jamie, not yet at least.

  Beverly’s flat was about the same size as Jamie’s, if not a bit bigger. A blue throw rug was at the center of her wooden floors, and black furniture decorated the place. There was a large window behind her couch, with blinds that covered it. The view the window gave was quite beautiful, a person could see almost half of London from where she would stand. Her bedroom was located down the hallway, and the hallway was just before the window at the very back of her living room and to the right.

  That night, as she fell asleep, she wondered what Jamie really did, and why she refused to tell her. All these answers would eventually come to her… all within time.


End file.
